A Demon's Fate
by EmmelineSpark
Summary: Before the beginning of his sixth year, Harry hears a voice calling for him, talking to him... Against his own will, he will grow closer to the voice and its owner, feeling it more and more familiar... Or is it really against his will? /Slash? Maybe...
1. Echoed

_...You'll burn this time, seeing the violence ; It's feeding my mind..._  
><em>No one is saving you, How can you find a heaven in this hell?<em>

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><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

_Echoed_

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><p>Harry walked silently on the tips of his toes, careful not to make any noise and wake up the Dursleys. He switched the lights of the kitchen on and walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, his eyes scanning for something to eat. It was the first time he woke up in the middle of the night because he was hungry; it had never happened to him before, but he knew there was no way he would be able to ignore his stomach's intense attempts to get him out of bed and straight into the kitchen.<p>

He grabbed a bowl of soup that hadn't been eaten by aunt Petunia at dinner and sat down to one of the six chairs around the abnormally shiny and clean wooden table to eat. He knew his aunt would kill him if she found out, but he didn't plan to tell her or let her know in any way.

Once he was finished, he got up and washed the emptied bowl, trying to make as less noise as possible, and, once he was done and his hunger was satisfied, he turned off the lights and went to the staircase to get back to his bedroom.

"_I thought you'd never finish eating. You really have a big stomach, you know._"

He froze at the bottom of the stairs at these words, as he felt his scar tingling slightly. No, he thought. No way. There is no freaking way!

"_But why? Do you really enjoy being away from me so much?_"

No! There was no way! That voice… Harry would recognize that horrible cold voice that sounded like a hiss anywhere, anytime. But here? No, there was no way Voldemort had found him at the Dursleys' house. Yes, he knew that Voldemort was aware of the fact that he was here, but there were so many protective charms, so many spells to protect him form the Dark Lord! No, there was no way Voldemort was here. He couldn't be!

Maybe Harry was just dreaming… Yes, that was the only explanation. He was dreaming, and he was hearing Voldemort's voice in his sleep. It wouldn't be the first time that that happened, anyway.

"_No, Harry, you're not dreaming at all. You're all awake and perfectly fine_."

"NO!" Harry screamed, suddenly without giving a damn about the Dursleys.

"_But yes…_"

"How the hell did you get here?" Harry yelled desperately. No, it couldn't be over now, not here, not this way… His mind wasn't working properly. He had no idea of what he was going to do, how he was going to defend himself.

"_I will tell you_," the cold voice answered in an amused tone, "_if you come outside, so we can face each other. Can you do that, Harry_?"

The teen growled. Of course, he thought, he wants me to get outside so he can kill me. But, he couldn't see any other possibility of escaping. He would either face Voldemort outside, or inside the house and risk the lives of the Dursleys.

"Fine!" he growled, and ran upstairs to grab his wand.

"_You won't be needing it_," the voice said, and Harry chuckled darkly.

"Yeah, right," he murmured and quickly stormed outside.

The breeze made him shiver a little, since he was only dressed in his summer pajamas. He nervously took a careful look around, his eyes scanning the yard and the street for any signs of Voldemort.

"_I'm over here,_" he heard a cold voice say, and immediately turned around to where it came from. As he expected, he saw Voldemort standing right next to a short tree, almost invisible, covered in black. Harry walked carefully closer to the Dark Lord, his steps unsure, his heart beating hard against is chest.

Voldemort gave a low laugh that sounded like a hiss. "Now, Harry, you really shouldn't be afraid," he said, his blood red eyes piercing through Harry's who suddenly felt really uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"Yeah. Of course," he said and rolled his eyes, trying to sound and look indifferent.

"No, you really shouldn't," Voldemort insisted with a smirk on his face. "You see, I can't do any harm to you. Well, at least not while you're here_,_" he added.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You see," Voldemort continued, "the protective charms dear old Dumbledore had placed don't allow me to come any further into the house's grounds, but here where I'm standing right now," he nodded, pointing at the ground beneath his feet.

Harry stood there, realizing what he had just heard. So, he was safe? He wasn't going to be killed? He wasn't going to duel with Voldemort?

"So… You came here to just tell me that you can't harm me while I'm here?" he asked suspiciously. "Then why are you even here, if you can't kill me?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh, I just wanted to see you," he said casually, and his cold voice sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Just wanted to see me. Right," Harry said mockingly. "Come on, Tom, just tell why you are here!"

Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger at the sound of his name, but he didn't comment on that.

"I'm being completely honest, Harry. I didn't come here with any intentions to harm you," he answered simply.

Harry took one step closer to him, feeling much more confident now that he knew Voldemort couldn't harm him.

"You? Honest? Okay. If I said I believe you, there wouldn't be a bigger liar in the whole world than me," he spat.

Voldemort chuckled again, obviously amused with the whole situation.

"You can believe me if you want," he said with a smirk, and then took a few steps back and pulled his wand out. Harry wrapped his own wand tighter, preparing himself to throw the first spell that would come to his mind straight at Voldemort.

"And don't believe me if you don't want," the Dark Lord added, his smirk never leaving his face. "But I repeat; I only came here to see you, Harry. Now, go back inside like a good boy you are," he said, and then he disappeared, leaving the dusty road empty.

Harry blinked. What the hell had just happened? Voldemort had come to the Dursleys' house, just to see him? And he had left, just like that, without saying anything else! That couldn't be good, this Harry knew. Probably Voldemort was planning something… Or maybe he just wanted to play with Harry's mind, as he liked to do during the whole last year.

"I really need to stop letting him affect me so much," Harry murmured to himself and rubbed his forehead, trying to shove the memories of last month away from his mind. Remembering of Sirius' death and the incidents at the Ministry of Magic didn't help at all at the moment.

After desperately trying to calm down a little, he turned around and entered the house again, preparing himself for the Dursleys' yells for being waken up by Harry's yells. However, the house remained silent as before, and Harry was surprised to find out that his aunt and uncle, along with his cousin, were still sleeping peacefully.

He silently thanked Merlin for that and headed to the stairs and up to his bedroom to get back to sleep. He desperately wanted to calm his mind and forget about everything that had happened just a few minutes ago. But, as soon as his head touched the comfortable pillow, the cold voice sounded again inside Harry's head and made him almost fall off the bed.

"_No, Harry, you can't sleep now! Not after all my efforts to wake you up_!"

Harry growled and grabbed his forehead, as he felt his scar in pain once more. Why couldn't Voldemort just leave him alone?

"What do you want from me?" he said angrily, his hand never leaving his scar. He waited for Voldemort's answer, but the voice didn't reply. "I should have known," the teen growled and got out of bed. He quickly grabbed his wand and looked anxiously out of the window, looking for Voldemort, but the Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen. "Perfect," Harry murmured and looked around in his bedroom, searching for any signs of him. Hedwig was now awake as well and was looking at Harry with confusion in her eyes, trying to figure out why her young owner looked so stressed.

"Where are you?" Harry asked, unaware of what to do exactly to get Voldemort to answer him.

"_Somewhere_," he heard the voice say.

"Thanks for the enlightening," Harry said bitterly.

"_You're welcome_," the voice said, and Harry could clearly hear the cold amusement in it. It simply made him boil with anger inside, knowing how much fun Voldemort was having by mocking him like that.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" he asked, anger and desperation boiling in his voice.

"_Because I don't want to_."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked, letting himself fall on the bed, exhausted. "What do you want from me?"

Silence.

"Answer me!" he yelled after a few seconds later.

"_Now, now, Harry, you shouldn't be that loud. We don't want uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia to wake up and scold us, do we_?"

"What the-?" Harry was completely confused. Confused, angry, desperate and seriously fed up with this situation. "Stop this!" he growled. "Just leave me alone, or face me like a man! Stop this brain-talking thing!"

Instead of an answer to his angry words, Harry only heard a bone chilling laugh that sounded more like a dangerous hiss.

"_You need to calm down, Harry. As I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. You have nothing to fear,_" the voice chuckled.

"I am not afraid!" Harry stood up and looked around once again, doing his best to sound brave.

"_Of course you're not_."

"I am not afraid!" Harry repeated, this time much louder. "I'm sick of this! Get out of the house, just go away!"

"_But, Harry, I am not inside the house. Even someone blind could tell that._"

"Then get out of my head, or wherever you are, and stop… whatever you're doing!"

Another low hiss-like laugh from Voldemort's voice.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, hoping that he would get a satisfying answer, but without setting his hopes up.

"_Nothing. Now go to bed and sleep_."

Now Harry was more confused than ever. "Excuse me?"

"_Go back to bed. You really need some sleep, my little Harry_."

"I won't take orders from you! And I'm definitely not _yours_!"

"_Harry. Go back to sleep_." The voice was now commanding and threatening.

"And why should I listen to you?" Harry asked stubbornly.

"_Because I say so. Now be a good boy and get to sleep. You don't want to make me angry, Harry_," the cold voice hissed.

"You can't harm me here! What do I have to be afraid of?"

"_Trust me, my little pet. You don't want to know_."

Harry let a growl of frustration escape his lips, but he decided that this "conversation" was useless whatsoever, so he lied down on his bed and closed his eyes tightly. If he wasn't going to get any answers from Voldemort, then he could just ignore him. But, before he let himself get covered by the sweet veil of sleep, Voldemort's last words echoed in his mind. "Trust me, my little pet". Pet? Had Voldemort called him his pet?

_That's right, my beautiful little pet. Sleep, sleep and forget about everything and everyone… Don't think about anyone… Let go of everything and sleep… You don't need anyone…Only yourself, Harry. You can only rely on yourself, and nobody else, because everyone wants to take you away, everyone wants to make you blind to the truth, and you won't accept that… Harry, they're all your enemies. Everyone. Every single one of them, who pretend to be your closest friends, they all want what's worst for you. They're not like me, Harry, they don't know what you are capable of, they know nothing about you, they don't care like I do… They just want to-_

"NO!" Harry screamed and fell off his bed. "Merlin," he murmured, and quickly climbed up on it again, and his hand automatically went up to his scar. "What the hell was that?" he asked himself, trying to figure out the bizarre dream he had just seen. It was nothing more than a silky voice talking to him… A beautiful voice… "What the hell was _that_?"

"_Nothing, my little pet. Nothing. Now go back to sleep, you're tired._" He heard Voldemort say once again, and he simply obeyed. He really needed some good sleep.

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><p>A.N Alright! Posted a new story! With that, I have 4 wip stories here, and I really don't know how I'm going to work this out, but, when a plot bunny pops in my head, I simply can't ignore it... And so I wrote this story down... I'm not sure if I like how this tunred out, but it seemed quite intersting in my mind when I decided to write this... Anyway! I wasn't very sure about the one genre being 'horror', but oh well. maybe I'll turn this to horror... Oh, the lyrics at the beggining are from Within Temptation's song "A Demon's Fate". Obviously, I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry would have turned in the Dark Side and Voldemort would be rulling the wizarding world with Bellatrix. I would also be the amazing JK Rowling and I would be extremely rich. Apparently this isn't happening, so...

Anyway, I hoped you liked it guys! Reviews are highly appreciated! I would love to know what you think about this and if you want me to continue!

xxx


	2. Unanswered

_Leave it behind_  
><em>Hearing your silence<em>  
><em>It screams our goodbye<em>  
><em>Cannot believe it's an eye for an eye<em>  
><em>Let us go to waste...<em>

_~Within Temptation, 'A Demon's fate'_

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><p><em>Chapter 2<em>

_Unanswered_

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><p>Harry quickly stood up and automatically hid the unfolded paper under a heavy school book, before turning around to look at the door with curious eyes.<p>

"Who is it?" he asked suspiciously, after a second loud bang.

"It's me, boy!" uncle Vernon's irritating voice answered from the other side of the white wooden door.

Harry's pulse instantly evened and his heart beats dropped. He had nothing to fear from his uncle. All he had to do now was find out what he wanted and why he had banged his door like that to get the boy's attention. He walked over to the door and opened it, to see a formally dressed Vernon Dursley, looking down at him with his common arrogant and greasy expression.

"What is it?" Harry asked, letting his annoyance show obvious in his voice. Vernon, however, didn't seem to notice that.

"I, your aunt and your cousin will be out for the evening. We have been invited out to dinner by the Browns'," Vernon answered with a small smile crossing his fat lips. Harry knew that his uncle felt beyond simply proud every time got an invitation like that.

"Okay."

"You will behave while we're out. We won't be back before midnight," his uncle added.

Harry nodded, but then remembered what he had wanted to tell the Dursleys. "Oh, uncle Vernon," he started, trying to sound as polite as possible this time. "I might be leaving tonight," he said. "I'll spend the rest of the summer at one of my friends' house… And probably I'll leave tonight, around nine," he added.

Vernon raised an eyebrow. "The whole rest summer?" he asked curiously. Never before had Harry stayed at the Dursleys' house for such a short time; only three weeks.

"Yes," Harry replied, unable to hide his enthusiasm. "And that's really good for you too," he added with an innocent smile, knowing that he would probably irritate his uncle. "You won't have to tolerate me for any longer," he said.

However, Vernon didn't scold him for talking back or anything like that. "Alright then," he said simply. "I will let Petunia know. And… I suppose we will meet again next summer."

Harry nodded. Vernon did the same, and decided that there was nothing else to say, so he turned around to leave, much to Harry's relief, putting an end to a really awkward silence.

As soon as he was alone again in his room, he sat back down on the uncomfortable chair of his small desk, and pulled out the letters he had received during the past three weeks.

Dear Harry,

If you and your uncle and aunt are all right with this, I will be passing from their residence tomorrow night at nine to pick you up. Molly and Arthur have informed me that they would be greatly pleased if you spent the rest of the summer with them at the Burrow, and I don't see any reason for you to not do so.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

That letter had actually confused Harry. He had never left the Dursleys' house after only three weeks before, but he definitely liked that. He couldn't wait until nine, when the headmaster would come to take him from the house he so hated and to the Burrow. He so wanted to leave the place he was in now… Especially after last week's events… Harry was thankful that Voldemort hadn't showed up or talked to him for a whole week, but he hadn't been able to sleep properly or take the events of _that_ night, one week ago, out of his head.

He shook his head. Thinking of Voldemort wouldn't help things at the moment. Instead, he decided to try and figure out why the headmaster himself would come to take him. With a sigh, he took out the second letter and read it once again.

Harry,

Mom told us you'll be staying here for the rest of the summer vacation! That's really awesome! Dumbledore informed us that he will bring you here in three days from now, and we can't wait! Hermione is already here, she arrived only a few hours ago. We are waiting for you to come too!

Ron

PS. When you come, a most… pleasant surprise awaits you… Still, Ginny and Hermione don't think this 'surprise' is very good, but, mind you, I'm sure they're just jealous. They wish they were like her! Oh, I think I just spoiled half of the surprise. Oh well… What can you do? I don't care, I'm telling you. Fleur Delacour is here! Yeah, it's awesome, I know. Do you remember her? At our fourth year, that gorgeous blonde from Beauxbattons? Yeah… she's getting married to Bill. Lucky him… Anyway, I'll tell you everything when I see you!

Harry folded the letter and placed it on the desk. So Bill was going to marry Fleur… He would have never guessed that something like that would happen… Oh well, if they love each other, he thought. Just when he was about to read the third letter he had received –this time from Hermione- for the fourth time, he heard the door bell ring. The Dursleys had already left, so that could only mean that Dumbledore had arrived! The teen quickly stood up and started packing up his things in a hurry, before storming down to the hall and opening the door to see the headmaster waiting for him.

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><p>A whole week had passed since Harry's arrival to the Burrow, and every day was pleasantly normal for the boy. Voldemort hadn't annoyed him at all; he hadn't invaded his mind and life and had completely left the teen alone, much to Harry's pleasure. He was worried, though. The thought that the Dark Lord was actually planning something and therefore had left Harry in peace for a whole week wouldn't leave his mind, despite all his efforts to convince himself that everything was alright and the incidence at the Dursleys' house, one week ago, was nothing more than just a simple teasing by Voldemort or a failed attempt to break the boy's confidence, and therefore wouldn't happen again. As if to just strengthen the boy's fears, his scar had begun to tingle and itch almost constantly, making Harry feel really uncomfortable. It didn't hurt or burn him, like it always did when Voldemort was close to him or when Harry sensed the Dark Lord's emotions; no, this was totally different, and Harry sometimes caught himself almost liking the pleasant, slight tingling that spread across his forehead, and then felt really ashamed and angry for that, every time it happened. He couldn't understand why this was happening, but he wasn't planning to ask anyone. Since the Dark Lord hadn't done anything to harm him, Harry supposed everything was alright, and that he didn't have anything to worry about.<p>

But that morning, when he had woken up, Harry had sensed that something was different. He had no idea why; maybe it was because his scar had stung painfully for the first time in so many days. He put a great effort to ignore it and convince everyone that he was fine, but he could feel the suspicious looks of Hermione, Ron and Ginny piercing him.

"I told you, I'm alright!" he said sharply, while having dinner with the Weasleys, Fleur and Hermione, after receiving another worried look from Ginny- the hundredth one that day.

"Harry, dear, you do look a little tired today," Molly said quickly, before Ginny could throw back an answer to Harry.

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine," Harry stated simply, trying his best not to show how upset he was with all the questions.

"Are you sure? You seem to be ill… Are you sure you are okay, my dear?" Molly insisted, only making Harry's anger grow. Why was everyone bothering him? Couldn't they see that he needed some space, that he couldn't answer to questions and be the center of attention all the time?

"I said I'm fine!" he growled, but he immediately regretted talking like that to Ron's mother. "Oh, umm…Mrs. Weasley… I'm sorry… I didn't-"

"Oh, don't worry dear," Molly cut him off with a comforting smile. "Everyone has their bad days," she said lightly. "Everyone deserves to be angry sometimes, do they not? Especially you, Harry, after all you have been through…"

Harry nodded slightly and looked down, feeling embarrassed, knowing that Ron was probably glaring at him. Ron! Harry suddenly felt anger filling him once again, this time because of his friend. His friend, who always thought that Harry believed himself to be better, who always thought that Harry had stolen his rightful place in his mother's heart… Nonsense! Harry had never had any intentions to outshine Ron, and yet, he-

He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn't supposed to have thoughts like that for his best friend… Feeling everyone's worried eyes on him, he stood up and looked around, his scar now tingling –once again, Harry couldn't tell if he liked the sensation or if he loathed it. "Umm… I… feel kinda tired…" he started in a slightly trembling voice, as he felt his scar now hurting and stinging, his vision becoming blurry. "I'll go to bed earlier tonight… If there is not a problem with that," he added, looking pleadingly over to Molly, who rushed to smile and comfort the boy.

"Of course not, of course not, Harry dear," she said, her smile never leaving her face. For some weird reason, Harry found that constant smile to be really annoying.

"Thanks," he said, as he struggled to keep his hand from moving up to grab his forehead. He murmured a quick "goodnight" and hurried out of the kitchen, running upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Ron. He hurriedly changed into his nightwear and fell on the bed with a loud sigh. Both his palms grabbed his forehead as his head touched the pillow, as if to lessen the pain that was now almost unbearable for Harry. He bit his tongue, desperately trying tot to scream, struggling to focus on making the pain stop…

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop…

In few seconds, his efforts found response; the burning across the teen's forehead lessened, became weaker, almost stopped. Harry slowly lowered his hands and opened his eyes, panting heavily. "Merlin," he murmured. "Where did that come from?" he asked himself. However, knowing that he could do nothing about it, Harry decided to relax and forget about everything, only for some moments. He forced himself to breathe evenly, forced his mind to think of things that had nothing to do with Voldemort, or the Weasleys, or the Order, or anything that would cause Harry to get upset. Soon, he felt himself getting surrounded by a familiar, warm cloud of darkness, falling thankfully into sleep's welcoming arms.

* * *

><p><em>"Did you see him?"<em>

_"Yes, what's wrong with him?"_

_"I don't know, but that boy is really getting on my nerves."_

_"Why? What did he do?"_

_"Seriously? Didn't you see him? He acts so strangely all the time, as if we're all his sworn enemies!"_

_"No, no, he was just tired! He explained it to us!"_

_"Oh really? And you actually believed him? Come on, didn't you see the look on his face? He looked so fed up with everyone, that little brat! What did we do to him?"_

_"He thinks he's the heart of the world, that everything evolves around him…"_

_"He always wants to be the center of attention…"_

_"He thinks he's so great…"_

_"And of course, he's nothing more than a boy with issues!"_

_"He needs to learn some manners!"_

_"He needs to come back to reality!"_

_"He needs to…"_

"Shut up!" Harry screamed as he opened his eyes, only to see the ceiling of the small bedroom. He sat up, breath coming out heavily, skin covered in sweat. He looked around anxiously, searching for the owners of the voices that had been talking like that about him. He didn't see anyone; only Ron, who was snoring in the bed next to him, deep lost in his own dreamworld. Harry quickly got out of bed, and walked carefully towards the door. He swore he had heard someone talking about him! He opened the door, trying not to make any noise, and looked up and down at the empty corridor. No one was there; Harry glanced at the watch on his wrist and saw that it was four at the morning. Obviously, everyone was sleeping. Then, who had been talking like that and had woken up Harry? "A dream", he thought. He sighed and closed the door, before walking back to his bed. Those people talking about him like that in his dream had really irritated him. So, that was what his closest friends were thinking of him? He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes tightly. He could feel his blood pumping hard through his veins, uncontrollable anger filling him once again. He couldn't deal with the fact that the people he trusted were gossiping about him behind his back! "Calm down, it's just a dream!" he mentally shouted to himself, but he knew there was no way to relax now. He knew he wouldn't sleep any more, even if he tried, so he stood up once again and grabbed a jacket from the wardrobe. He moved to the door and opened it, then glanced over to Ron's sleeping form, just to make sure that everything was alright, and then got out to the empty corridor.

A few moments later, he was out of the dark, quiet house, his feet touching the wet grass of the Weasleys' garden. He wrapped his jacket tightly around his body and started walking. He had no idea of where he was going, but there was no way he would get back in the house, with all of _them_…

"Now, now, Harry, you really shouldn't have thoughts like that for the people who care about you."

The boy froze right next to a small, hectic tree. Not again, he thought. His right hand automatically moved to his thigh, where a pocket with his wand inside should be.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He didn't have his wand with him. He had no way of defending himself against Voldemort.

He lifted his head and his eyes wandered around the dark garden, searching for Voldemort, the same way they had done two weeks ago. However, the Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen. Harry took a few steps backwards, slowly moving closer to the door to the inside of the Burrow, glancing nervously around him. But once his hand was about to push the door open so he could go inside, the voice made him freeze in his spot once again.

"You really are so desperate to run away from me, Harry?"

The boy tried his best to ignore the voice, which sent unhealthy shivers down his spine, and pushed the wooden door to get away from the now hostile grounds of the garden. To his surprise, the door remained closed, as if stubbornly refusing to obey to Harry's will. He gave it a loud bang, trying again to open it, but with no success; the door wouldn't open, despite Harry's continuing efforts. He took a step back and forced himself to calm down. It wasn't easy. Waves of terror were now going through him, despite his struggling efforts to suppress them, while he felt his stomach leaping from nausea.

He ran a sweaty hand through his messy hair, struggling to remember if there were any other entrances to the house; sure there were, but Harry couldn't bring himself to think of any. He took another fearful look around, hoping not to see the one he was searching for.

"Turn a little to your left, if you will. Just for a better view."

Harry immediately tuned around to his left, and his worried eyes spotted a tall, thin figure, dressed in black, standing right next to the tottering fence of the kitchen-garden. His pale, almost white skin was in a perfect contrast with his burning crimson eyes and dark surroundings.

Harry unconsciously backed away a few steps, terror rising in him once again. The already stuffy air seemed to thicken, making it even harder to breathe. "What… What are you doing here?" was all he managed to say, unable to hide the fear in his trembling voice.

He heard Voldemort chuckle, and then he saw him take a few steps closer to him; Harry, on his account, took a few backwards, wanting to avoid the man who was now dangerously close to him.

"Can't I just come to pay a visit to dear Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked with a sly smirk, causing Harry to feel like he was going to be sick. "Now, Harry, how many times do I have to tell you not to be afraid?" Voldemort hissed, taking another step forward.

"Yes, yes, you can't harm me and everything," Harry spat, now doing better at controlling the trembling in his voice, much to his satisfaction. He hated looking weak in front of his enemies, and especially in front of Voldemort, but it wasn't something that he was always able to do. "So why do you keep popping out of nowhere like that, if you're not going to attempt to kill me?" he continued, gathering all the courage he had left. He mad sure to emphasise on the word 'attempt', reminding Voldemort of how he had failed to kill him so many times before. Voldemort, however, didn't seem to get annoyed at this. He simply stared at Harry, his crimson eyes piercing through the boy's, making him feel extremely unfocused.

"To be precise, Boy-Who-Lived, it's not that I _can't_ harm you, although I must admit it is quite difficult to do so with all this protective charms around you," Voldemort said casually, without answering Harry's previous question, much to the teen's displeasure, "it's that I don't _want_ to harm you." He hissed softly.

Harry frowned at his words. Voldemort didn't want to harm him? Under other circumstances, he would have laughed at this, but now all he could do was wonder if the Dark Lord was simply enjoying playing with Harry's mind once again.

"Or, to be more accurate," Voldemort said in his low, cold voice, "I don't want to _kill_ you, my little Chosen-One. That is what they call you now, isn't it? Quite interesting, I must say" he smirked.

"You don't want to kill me?" Harry repeated, unable to suppress the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. "Do you really want me to believe that?"

"Oh, I'm speaking nothing but the truth. It's all up to you to decide if you are going to believe me or not," Voldemort answered indifferently, twisting his wand between his long, pale fingers.

Harry glanced nervously at it, and then turned his gaze on Voldemort's face once again. His expression was unreadable, neutral, and his burning eyes were looking calmly through Harry's. "What will happen if I say that I don't believe you?" he dared to ask.

"Nothing," Voldemort replied simply, confusing Harry. They stood there, sharing an extremely awkward silence; on Harry's part at least. Where Harry was obviously uncomfortable and nervous, Voldemort looked annoyingly calm and even slightly amused with Harry's nervous glances around the silent garden.

"All this is very good," suddenly snapped Harry's seem-to-be confident voice, breaking the silence, "so I'm just going to go back inside, and you can go back to… wherever you want." He said, and took a careful step behind, measuring Voldemort's reactions to his words.

"No, Harry, you're not going anywhere," he hissed, and Harry could sense the threat behind it. He decided to stay still and hear to what else Voldemort had to say, but the Dark Lord remained silent, observing Harry's features with glowing eyes. Harry's hands nervously clenched on the edges of his jacket, as the boy desperately tried to figure out what was going on. Could he be dreaming?

"No, you're not," Voldemort hissed softly, something like a cruel smile now twisting his lipless mouth. Harry frowned. That whole mind-reading thing had become really annoying; he should try to close his mind from Voldemort, he should try, he had to-

"You're not going to accomplish anything, little Harry, even if you try," Voldemort smirked at him, making Harry boil in anger. The boy growled and his hands turned into fists, fed up with Voldemort treating him like that. "You-" he started angrily, but was cut off.

"You must learn how to control your emotions, Harry," Voldemort hissed. "That's the very first step, if you want to succeed in securing your mind. And that means holding back your anger."

Harry growled again. Voldemort's words had reminded him of Snape and the Occlumensy lessons with him, which had turned out to be a total flop. "What do you know about controlling of anger?" he asked furiously, suddenly remembering of all the visions of the Dark Lord he had had over the past year, torturing his servants when being furious.

"I don't think you should compare yourself with me, Harry," Voldemort replied calmly, although Harry could hear the tension in his cold voice.

"And why so?" he asked stubbornly.

"Because, Harry, you're _nothing_ compared to me, that's why. And that's the problem," he replied, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Problem? What problem?" he frowned.

Voldemort paused for a second, as if considering his next words, and then spoke again, his voice sending shivers down Harry's spine once again. "I'm sure you know what a horcrux is, right Harry? I bet Dumbledore has told you," he said, a slight smile that held something sly and cruel crossing his mouth.

"A… A _what_?" Harry asked, now more confused than ever.

"Oh, I see. It seems that old dear Albus doesn't trust you enough to let you know something so important… A shame it is, really. But, that's Dumbledore," Voldemort said, as if talking to himself, and then he turned his eyes to Harry, his abnormal smile never leaving his lipless mouth. "I believe that since Dumbledore doesn't consider you worthy enough to let you know about something like this, then we should end our little conversation here… What do you think?"

Harry didn't know how to answer to the man's words. He had no idea about what he had just heard, but, before he could say something, Voldemort had disappeared, leaving him alone in the dark, silent garden of the Burrow. He walked back to the house with unsure steps, as if hit in the face with something, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Voldemort had told him that he should be aware of something important, called horcrux, that Dumbledore should have told him... And yet, Harry had no idea what that thing was. he tried to clear his mind from all this, and thought that maybe he should talk to someone... Later. Once he reached the door, he tried to push it open, but he soon realized it was still locked. He let a growl of frustration escape his mouth, as he thought that he would have to spend the rest of the night outside, waiting until someone woke up and opened for him to get inside. "Perfect," he growled. "Everything is just fucking_ perfect_."

* * *

><p>A.NWow! I was shocked with the response the story got, and I really want to thank everyone who has added this to their alerts and favorites! I honestly wasn't expecting you guys to be so ...many, so thanks again! You make me feel so loved! Also special thanks to everyone who took the time and wrote a review for this! I really love you guys! So, I found some time and I wrote the second chapter. It's a little longer than the first one, and I hope you'll like it. I want to clear out that there _will_ be LV/HP slash, but not yet. I don't want to get straight into it and make it look all rushed. Also, the slash will be... well... graphic. But as I said, not yet.

Of course, nothing belongs to me but the plot. JK Rowling owns everything, since you don't see Harry in the dark side, Ginny dead and Voldemort hooked up with Bellatrix in the actual books. Oh well :P


	3. Confused

_Angels have faith_  
><em>I don't want to be a part of his sin<em>  
><em>I don't want to get lost in his world<em>  
><em>I'm not playing this game<em>

_~Within Temptation, "A Demon's Fate"_

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

_Confused_

* * *

><p>"Harry!"<p>

The shocked, high pitched voice alarmed the teen who immediately opened his eyes, waking up from a not so pleasant sleep. He stretched his limbs awkwardly, shifting from the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in and forced himself on his feet, after fixing his glasses that had almost fallen off his face.

Harry blinked and looked at a surprised, confused Hermione looking with eyes wide open at him.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing out here?" she asked worriedly, and helped the boy inside. Harry yawned, as a result of not having gotten enough rest, and walked inside the house, Hermione following behind. The house was quiet, and Harry was thankful for that; he didn't want the Weasleys to start bombarding him with questions.

He heard Hermione close the door behind him and then turned around to face her. "Hermione, don't ask any questions, I had a rough night," he said in a pleading voice, hoping that his friend would understand and leave him so that he could go have a bath and get a proper nap.

"Okay," the girl said, frowning, but the worry was still obvious across her face. "Just tell me why you were outside… Don't tell me you spent the whole night there, sleeping against the door!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I won't tell you so, if you want it, but it's not going to change things," he said, trying to make his voice sound a little more pleasant.

Hermione gasped. "You slept outside? H-how? Why?"

"I locked my self outside. I know, I know, stupid of me not to make sure I could get back in, but what can we do now?"

"But how did this happen?" Hermione insisted, seeming concerned about her friend's mental well-being.

Harry shrugged, trying to push the images of what had happened last night away from his mind. "I went out to get some air, and I couldn't get back in. I was tired, and I fell asleep. Now I just want to take a nice, warm bath."

"Oh." Hermione certainly didn't seem to have calmed down, but decided not to push the subject any more. Obviously, her friend was not in the mood for that right now. "Just try not to make much noise; everyone's still sleeping, I'm the only one awake. It's still 7 o' clock," she said, and Harry nodded.

"Okay. Thanks," he said, and without another word, he turned around and left, almost sprinting up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Ron. Careful not to wake him up, he took of his jacket and grabbed a fluffy white towel from the wardrobe, and headed to the bathroom.

Once he found himself inside the bathroom, he took off his glasses, which he placed carefully on a counter, and quickly threw his clothes away, without caring that much about the garments that now lay on the floor. He turned on the water in the tub and sank himself in, overwhelming the sensation of the steamy water against his flesh.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes, feeling better without seeing anything at all. He stayed in that position for several long seconds, and then opened his eyes again. He now felt slightly dizzy, and he could tell a headache was about to strike. Perfect.

He leaned his head back on the cold tile, and another sigh left his mouth, as his visions blurred, both from the hot steams around him and the fact that he was not wearing his glasses.

His eyes closed again, as he struggled to put his thoughts in order. It had only been a few hours ago, when he had met with Voldemort at the Burrow's garden. He had met with Voldemort outside of his best friends' house… _He had met with Voldemort_.

There was no doubt that this had really happened, that it was not just another of Harry's weird dreams about Voldemort. But why? Well, he had no idea. The only thing that he could be positive about was that Voldemort had not harmed him, had not even attempted to.

This puzzled him; the Dark Lord had been trying to capture and kill him for over six years, and now that they had been standing only a few feet away from each other, he had not even aimed his wand at him.

Another thing Harry was sure about was that Voldemort must definitely have had a reason. There is no way he had simply decided to pay a visit, just to talk. No, he must have wanted something, but Harry had no idea what this was.

Voldemort had simply stood there, his face remaining calm as he had been watching Harry carefully, the edges of his mouth had even curled up in amusement once or twice. He hadn't even told him a thing, he hadn't given Harry a reason for his unexpected –and most certainly nor welcomed- visit, and the teen was completely clueless about what on earth Voldemort wanted from him –apart from killing him and getting rid of him once and for all, of course.

But then, Voldemort had not even tried to kill him, Harry thought. But why? What was the reason behind this absurd behaviour? What did Voldemort want from him?

Then, as he sank deeper into the water, Harry suddenly remembered of Voldemort's mention about some thing called horex… hocuxr… No, it was horcrux. The boy had absolutely no idea of what this thing could possibly be, and he couldn't figure out why Voldemort had told him about it.

But in fact, he hadn't told him anything, he had merely mentioned the name of that unknown to him object, or whatever else it could be… But he had mentioned the fact that Harry was supposed to know… _That Dumbledore ought to have told him_.

This confused Harry greatly; more than Voldemort's visit in itself. He was supposed to know about that thing called a 'horcrux', but he didn't. He was supposed to have been told by Dumbledore himself, so Harry assumed it must be something of great importance. And yet, he had no idea, Dumbledore hadn't given him a clue about it.

This made him angry. Wasn't Dumbledore supposed to trust him? Wasn't he supposed to tell him what was important, what he needed to be aware of? The fact that Voldemort himself had mentioned the horcrux, made Harry realize it was something really important, and he was angry that Dumbledore hadn't informed him about something he ought to know about.

And what if it was a trap? Harry hadn't thought of that until know. Of course, it could easily be a trap, what better way for Voldemort to win over him by feeding him with false information and accuses against the Headmaster, so that Harry would think he should be aware of something seemingly important –since Voldemort himself had talked about it- but in fact, that thing perhaps did not exist at all.

Harry shook his head. Of course, it was a trap. What had gotten into him? He believed what Voldemort told him? _Voldemort_? The man who killed and tortured without any remorse, the man with no conscious, the man who manipulated and corrupted people in order to get what he wanted?

Harry laughed bitterly. There was no way he was going to believe Voldemort, or listen to anything else that cold-blooded murdered said to him. He would just forget about his interactions with him, and would be careful to never allow himself to get influenced by the Dark Lord again.

"_You are hurting my feelings, now, Harry_," a horrible, hissing mocking voice echoed inside the bathroom, making the teen almost drawn in the water as he flipped over and grasped the edges of the tub to steady himself.

"What the- Where are you?" he snapped after making sure he wasn't in danger of hurting himself and sitting in a more comfortable position, now feeling terrified at thinking of the likelihood that Voldemort could be inside the very house.

"_Worry not, I am not it your beloved friends' house_," the voice replied casually, and Harry felt a familiar tingling sensation spreading across his forehead.

"Then where _are_ you?"

"_Inside that fascinating little place that is your mind_," the hissing voice answered, sending shivers down Harry's spine.

The boy sighed. Okay, at least his friends were not in danger. But, Voldemort had told him that he was in his head. And that meant he knew what he was thinking. What he was doing. Where he was.

Terror coursed through him, as Harry realized that very simple, yet so complicated fact. It meant that at any time, Voldemort was fully aware of his whereabouts and his own thoughts; thus, he could easily find out about the inner workings of the Order, or everything he shared with his friends or Dumbledore.

"_Once again, little Harry, you are terribly mistaken_."

He gasped. While being lost in his own horrifying thoughts, Harry had completely forgotten about the 'conversation' that had started between him and the Dark Lord.

"What the hell do you mean?" he snapped, angry at being completely unaware of everything.

"_I mean that I can only be in your head when you allow me to_."

When he _allowed_ him to? But Harry had never allowed Voldemort to invade his mind! He had never wanted to start this mind-talking creep thing! All he wanted was to get rid of that terrible cold voice in his head and never hear it again.

"I never allowed you to get in my fucking head!" he shouted, forgetting where he was, what he was doing.

"_Oh, but you did_," the voice commented softly, and Harry snorted in spite of himself. "_You did, Harry_," the voice repeated, this time more firmly. "_You were vulnerable, and you let me slip in. It is simple; you just don't have control over your own mind._"

A low growl escaped Harry's throat, as he realized the Dark Lord was probably right; no matter his declarations of the opposite, Harry was perfectly aware that he always had a really hard time when trying to keep his mind closed and repel any thoughts and emotions. He didn't know why; but he did know it happened.

"_I can see that you agree, Harry_."

Damn it, he had once again let his thoughts be heard by that bastard.

"_Watch your language, Potter. This kind of words are not appropriate for the polite young boy that you are_."

Okay, enough was enough! Voldemort had invaded Harry's mind, and now he was going to instruct him what he should be thinking of?

"Get. Out. Of my head!" He snarled, and his eyes wondered around in the bathroom, fearing that perhaps the Dark Lord would pop out of nowhere once again. Of course, he saw nothing but the steams that filled the bathroom and moistened the tile walls.

"_You are not being polite, Harry_."

"Just leave me alone!" Harry shouted, and he didn't care if anyone woke up because of his loud voice. All he wanted was Voldemort to leave, to get out of his mind and never come back.

This time the voice did not reply, but made a low hissing sound that sounded like some sort of a sinister laugh, that chilled Harry to the bone, before anger filled him once again. Oh, so that bastard was now _laughing_? He was _amused_?

"Why are you even here? What do you want?"

"_I don't see any reason why I shouldn't have come, Harry, since you're the one who invited me. It would have been terribly rude of me to refuse the invitation._"

"I did _what_?"

Again with that horrible hissing laugh. Harry had never been fond of violence, but never before in his whole life had he wanted to punch someone so badly. He swore, if Voldemort was here, present in the room, he would have done so, and he would have enjoyed it. The laugh only continued, now sounding even more amused with the boy's fury.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but immediately regretted, as he recalled Voldemort's words, the ones he had spoken only a few minutes before. _I can only be in your head when you allow me to_, he had said. So, that meant that if Harry focused, if he tried, then he could force Voldemort to go away? He would repel him?

It was worth a try. Obviously, by sitting in the bath and yelling at someone who apparently, only he could hear, he wouldn't make any progress, not to mention that he must look like a complete idiot. What would happen if someone walked in?

He closed his eyes, and desperately tried to relax. The fact that the voice had stopped talking helped him concentrate; _Get out, get out, get out of my mind… Get out… _He took a small breath. The voice did not make any sound, and he soon felt his mind much clearer. Maybe it was working? Maybe he was succeeding in securing his mind?

The thought and only gave him new hope, and he focused more intently. His eyes were shut, and the only thing he was thinking of was the command get out, go _away_. Was it working? It had to. The voice had gone.

But Harry could not yet be entirely sure, so he kept going. He inhaled deeply, holding the air in his lungs, and then exhaled. Good. It was working.

"_Very, very nice, Harry. Just try to relax a little more, being all tensed like that will certainly not help you with what you are trying to do_."

Harry's eyes snapped open again, his breathing erratic. He…He had thought he had done it! How come Voldemort was still there, refusing to go away? What kind of magic was this, what kind of abnormal connection?

He had to calm down. He knew, he knew he would not achieve anything by panicking. _Okay, relax now, you're going to do it. Just relax_. Perhaps, thinking intently of what he wanted to do wouldn't help; perhaps he should just empty his mind of every thought, and think of nothing.

_Alright. You can do it. Just… relax._

"_You will not achieve anything this way, Potter. You really are uselesssssss_…"

He ignored the voice. Or, at least he tried to. He knew he had to.

"_Do you really think you can force me away just like that? I do not intend to leave any time soon, pet._"

Pet? What the hell?

Harry instantly opened his eyes again, but closed them again almost within a split second. Voldemort was just trying to irritate him. He should not pay any attention to his words, no matter what he said.

"_You are doing quite better than before, though… I must admit that staying in your mind was quite easier a few minutes ago_…"

These words gave new confidence to Harry. He was doing it, he could secure his mind. All he had to do was not let that voice affect him.

"_But in the end, we both know you will not succeed… You have to accept the truth Harry… You're worthless_…"

Ignore him. Ignore him, and just relax.

"_Useless_…"

Don't listen to him.

"_Pathetic_…"

I am not pathetic.

"_You are… And we both know it…_"

Just don't pay any attention to what he says.

"_Pathetic… And clueless_…"

Clueless?

"_Has Dumbledore considered you worthy enough to let you know about horcruxes?_"

About what? He opened his eyes again, forgetting about his previous efforts to ignore Voldemort's words. They had reached the topic about that strange thing again; what if a horcrux did exist? What if Dumbledore did know and had simply not informed Harry? What if the Headmaster really though Harry to be worthless?

"What are these horcruxes?" he asked desperately, hoping that he would finally be enlightened.

No answer came.

"What are these things?"

No response.

He growled.

Silence.

"HARRY! OPEN THE DOOR!'

Harry sat up, shocked, and quickly got out of the tub. Where had _that_ come from? He wrapped the towel around his waist, without bothering about the watter dripping on the floor, and rushed to unlock the door. Once he did, the hot steams flew out of the bathroom, making Hermione lift her left hand to cover her eyes.

"Sorry about that," Harry muttered, "the water was a little too hot…"

"It's okay," the girl said after a few seconds, and then looked worriedly straight into there friend's eyes. "Harry is everything alright?" she asked, and took a quick glance around the bathroom above Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, why shouldn't it be?" Harry shrugged, struggling to make his voice sound casual.

Hermione frowned at him, as if she thought Harry was completely out of his right mind. "Harry, you woke up the whole house with your screaming."

* * *

><p>AN Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long to update, I really am… But here I am with an update… :) I hope you liked the new chapter… I do not want to rush things, so there's still not the HP/LV thing I'm planning for the next chapter… Hope you understand… But as I said, there **will** be.

I want to thank everyone who reads this, and of course everyone who had added this story to their alerts and favourites! Thanks guys :) Many special thanks to those who took the time and reviewed, it's great to have some feedback!

Please, do hit that button below and tell me what you think!


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